Smileyface

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
          We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
          We wear the mask!

This poem by Paul Lawrence Dunbar is one of my favorite poems ever.  It totally describes the state of many of us who are descendants of slaves brought to this land from Africa.  Specifically, it speaks to the time period of Mr. Dunbar, but I believe it very aptly describes our lives in this nation, no matter how far we have come, especially with the election of President-elect Obama.  This poem is still very, very relevant.

Also, though, I am increasingly finding for my own personal view, that I see the words in a different light.  I see the words as applying not just to the differences between the way varying ethnicities/nationalities interact with each other, but also how we interact with everyone we know, especially people we know.  

I've been accused of wearing a mask for lots of my life.  Not in a malicious way, like "you are so fake, you're always wearing a smile", but just that people eventually realize that I'm almost always smiling.  It disturbs some people, like I have something I'm hiding beneath my "facade" of niceness and sweetness and smiles.  Others wonder what else is there besides the smile.  And, yet, most people don't really pay that much attention.

I can appreciate and be thankful for the people who want to get to know me better beyond my outer, winning smile.  I am so thankful for that smile, because it has gotten me through/past a few places, people, and things.

However, I find that I do wear my mask.  It's a smileyface.  I love it because it is so comfortable, it's so easy to wear.  It doesn't hurt me, and it keeps me safe.

It protects me from exposing the tender, vulnerable places in my life that need attention and care, and, sometimes, even a few pairs of loving eyes, hearts, hands and ears to look after them.  

I just don't want to open up.  I don't want to.  Why?

When I had friends, really close friends, people, young women, that I shared everything of me with, my trust was betrayed, and I came to the discovery that I did not really have close friends.  They may not have really wanted to be my friend after all was said and done.

Realizing that I put more into the relationship emotionally than the others makes me feel like I got taken for a ride.  It also makes me feel like no one really cares about how I feel.  Or what I think.  Or who I am.

Fortunately, there is ONE who does.  And He is closer than a brother.  I am so grateful for His love and care.

But, man was not meant to live alone, and although I have my husband and son, I need friends, too.  I need more than just my "inner circle."  I need real folks, real friendships, real lives to be part of, not just an outsider looking in.

I'm so tired of feeling alone in a crowd.  But I don't know how to change that....

I need a lifeline.  

I hope to find one soon.

But, until then, you can find me, wearing my comfortable mask.  

Smiling at you, as nice as nice can be.